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Snippet #2603096

located in England, a part of A Princesses Debt, one of the many universes on RPG.

England

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Belinda Mountbatten Character Portrait: Cristofer Fonseca Character Portrait: Diego Caravaggio Character Portrait: Tara Mountbatten Character Portrait: Adeline Mountbatten Character Portrait: Henri RenΓ© D'Aramitz Character Portrait: Alexander Salvatore Character Portrait: Marissa Mountbatten
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ImageThe morning had begun as nothing out of the ordinary. Adeline's closed eyelids had been greeted by the soft heat of the sun, which peeked through the window like a mischievous child. She had laid there a moment, smiling slightly, before sitting up. Leaning back against the wooden head of her bed, she had stretched, yawned, and slid out of bed sleepily. She'd wandered aimlessly to her mirror, pondering breakfast, when she'd caught sight of her reflection.

Suddenly, the sun wa blotted out by an undeniable gloom. The previously carefree atmosphere replaced by one of bitterness and dread. Ah, yes. Tonight she was to meet her possible fiance. Well, they said possible, but Adeline was well aware of just how little choice she would have in the matter. As a princess... and the third born, at that, she was little more than a political pawn as far as her love life was concerned. The life of royalty, in the stories it was so magical, so blissful, but reality was harsh. The life of a royal was filled with wealth, power.. and responsibility. That's how her father had explained it, taking her hand and uttering these solemn, honest words, in an attempt to prevent her from replying in her typically cold and cynical manner. And she'd pretended to accept it, feigned understanding. But underneath her act of docility, she was blazing in anger and frustration.

There is no chance that I am going to allow myself to be wed to some pompous, self-indulgent arse.

A knock at the door battered back some of the tense air, and a head appeared at the door. The maid curtsied daintily, "Good morning, your Grace. I pray you slept well?" Adeline offered her a distracted smile, "Like a log." She reached into her wardrobe, pulling a simple, somewhat marred dress from the large selection. Her maid, a girl named Linette, frowned slightly, "Er, your Grace? Shouldn't we begin preparing for the-" "Isn't it this evening?" "Well, yes. But-" "Then I'm sure it can wait." She shot her maid another smile, "Sorry, Lin. But if I don't shoot something I might just take my anger out on my fiance." She took her quiver, filled with arrows, and her bow, swinging the former over her shoulder before weaving past her straw-haired companion. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

The day had been spent -with lack of a better term- venting. Target after target had been struck with the sharp end of a swiftly fired arrow. The ground marred with the tell-tale marks left by a horse's gallop. By the time she had returned home, her hair was wild, and a her skin caked in dust and dirt, cheeks reddened from the brisk wind. Through her favourite hobby, she had found solace, but now she was back here, preparing for what could possible decide her entire future. There was something terrifyingly daunting about it all, and she felt sick to the stomach. A bath of hot water, rose petals and lavender left the princess smelling sweet, and her skin clear, and several hours later, she was staring at her reflection in the mirror, her expression of disinterest contrasting the looks of admiration and pride found on the faces of her maids and handmaidens. She glanced down at the golden dress sighing to herself as she grudgingly thanked the women before approaching the ball room, "Now," before entering, she hesitated, biting her lip, looking forward with new found determination. "Into battle."

She entered the ballroom, walking towards her two sisters before standing beside them.